


First Impressions

by bellestrashprince



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Multi, adam is the spoiled rich boy who pretends not to care, basically just a big loving family trying to get through college life, belle is the booksnob who goes by first impressions, cogsworth is lumiere's weirdo dormmate that's a bit too into historic wars, in which lumiere's catchphrase is 'it's lit fam', plumiere is THAT annoying couple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-07 14:25:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12843093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellestrashprince/pseuds/bellestrashprince
Summary: Adam Villeneuve is the god of the University of Villeneuve. He comes from a long line of blue blooded rich men, with a Wall Street stock broker for a father, and everyone as his admirer. He's also devilishly handsome and filthy rich. He owns the campus, both figuratively and literally. No one says no to Adam Villeneuve.But that is all about to change when Agathe sets her sights on him, ruining his reputation forever, and when Belle Beaumont arrives at campus. Nothing will ever be the same.A tale as old as time told anew, this time without the curses and beasts.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time, a handsome young man was hosting a lavish party at his penthouse. Although he had everything his heart desired, the boy was selfish and unkind. Only the best and brightest aristocratic students of the University of Villeneuve were allowed there, and the rest were shut out. On this eventful night, an unexpected guest arrived at the party. If only she had been looking for shelter from the bitter storm. But she was not. She was looking for revenge.

A college party, Agathe scoffed at herself. She didn’t think she’d ever be this cliché. And yet here she was, leaning against a wall, eyes scanning the room. It was just like she’d imagined. Loud, sweaty, and swarming with low-IQ and brain-dead idiots. She’d never been jealous of the popular kids, the burned out jocks, the rich boys with their own pool and stereo set, the girls with daddy issues. Her way of living did not mix well with theirs. To put it frankly, she was too smart.

Her mother had always told her she was ahead of her time. Sharp-minded, silver-tongued, slick, clever, and, what mattered most to these boneheads, really fucking hot. High School had been a drag, and, yes, University of Villeneuve was a big step up. However, she still felt like a Galileo Galilei amongst religious fanatics, trying to prove her point. They were dull, and narrow-minded most of all. This was their world. Hazy, smoke-filled rooms brimming with bright young things getting wasted to forget their shame after a heart-crushing test, walls vibrating to the beat of a grunge 90’s rock song.

It was slightly offensive to her mother’s memory for Agathe to be seen in a place like this. But she wasn’t here for nothing, to simply drown her sorrows in a plastic cup filled with red wine and the first econ-major she could find. She had a mission.

Agathe smiled over her red cup, lips curving against the white plastic rim. She could see him now, standing by the pool table and watching the guys play beer pong. He was leaning against the table, hand propped up on the green fuzz-covered edge. To an unknowing eye this would seem innocent, carefree, perhaps even cool. But Adam Villeneuve was no idiot. He knew what he was doing. He knew that when he leaned like that his dark grey t-shirt tightened against his toned abdomen, inching upwards the closer he came, and revealing more skin. And though he pretended not to see them, he knew about the sorority chicks in the corner giving him lustful looks.

He ran a hand through his blonde curls, biting his lip and pretended to concentrate on the game, and all the girls in the room sighed hopelessly. One of the guys on his team scored and Adam chuckled cheerfully and gave him a brotherly pat on the back. The boy blushed and lost focus, not noticing the white ping pong ball making a splash and landing in one of their mugs. The red plastic cup wobbled by the force and toppled over, spilling beer all over Adam’s shirt and jeans. He cursed under his breath, looking down at the mess, and left the game.

That was when Agathe knew it was time to strike.

She'd never considered herself an evil person for her personal vendetta against Adam Villeneuve. The case was simple, and the young man had evidence against him stacked up mile high. He was a spoilt, rich dude who used his good looks to manipulate people. He knew they wanted more than just one night, he knew they all dreamed of either being with him or being him, and yet he played his little game. He let them believe for just a moment that they had a chance, for just a night, and then the day after he'd moved on to someone new.

Tonight that was going to change, she silently promised his victims. Tonight he was going to learn his lesson.

Agathe took the chance and followed him down the corridor and up the stairs to the second floor of his apartment. It felt like a trail she was following. A perfectly laid out, carefully planned trail to Adam Villeneuve’s destiny. Agathe silently complimented herself for her genius. She was aware of her utter transparency amongst the higher ranks. They hadn’t noticed her getting familiar with the flat the weekend before, and they wouldn’t notice her  
tonight either. She’d slip in and out like a ghost, a shadow of a memory. She knew this place like the back of her hand.

When she reached the second floor, Agathe turned a corner and found the door to his bedroom stood ajar, giving a glimpse of what was going on inside. She caught a flash of Adam as he moved around inside his room. Halting, she took a moment to pause, letting him undress first.

It wasn’t that Agathe was an evil person. In fact, she considered herself to be just, above all things, and being just erased the possibility of cruelty. She was simply doing what was right. She’d seen the girls who adored him turn to crying wrecks as they were dismissed by someone they thought cared for them, heard their angered voices as their hope turned to disappointment. She’d heard enough. Agathe had grown tired of the way the boys thought they could use and manipulate however they liked without ever facing the consequences. No, this was right.

She fished out her compact mirror from the back pocket of her jeans and reapplied her red lipstick, tousled her blonde hair one last time, and smiled to herself. Then, without further ado, she pushed open the door and went inside.

The room was far enough from the party for the current song, The Human League’s _Don’t You Want Me_ , only to be a distant muffle. He could afford the big apartment and the luxurious room, with his family’s fortune and his father’s many Wall Street businesses. The thing that stood out the most was the large, genuine 18th century bed, complete with his initials, A.L.F.V, carved into the bed frame, across the Villeneuve family crest. Above it hung the great crystal chandelier, casting little specks of rainbow light all over the room, and on a nightstand stood a vase with a single red rose, beside it a candle that was still alight.

He stood in front of a large gilded mirror, adorned with gilded vines and roses, trying to unbutton his jeans. The top of his designer boxers stuck out cheekily. He was so effortlessly, casually cool. Perfectly undone, the epitome of manly beauty.

Adam Villeneuve turned around in shock. He was shirtless, but he was a confident young man, he knew he was attractive, so he didn’t try to cover up.

He stared at her. “Um… Hi?”

Agathe did her best to try to feign blushing. She thought he’d like that. “Oh…” she said sheepishly, wide-eyed and letting her gaze wander over his toned torso. “I’m sorry. Is this not the bathroom?”

Adam chuckled awkwardly. “Not really. You know, there’s one downstairs. For guests.”

“It’s just as well. I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Now I have a reason to.”

Something shifted in the man’s eyes. A certain feral look, like a hunter that’d finally spotted its prey. Adam smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You have?”

If she were an idiot Agathe would’ve fallen for that, but she was not. She knew his game. She had to if she wanted to play against him.

Agathe took a step toward him and, like she’d thought, he didn’t back away. The intensity in his eyes only strengthened at the move. He followed her.

“Yeah, I guess you could say I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. Heard a lot about you. I’ve seen you during lectures. It’s hard not to,” she said, stroking his ego. To no surprise, Adam gladly took the compliment.

“Lectures? That can’t be right. I’m sure I’d have noticed you if we attended the same lecture. What professor? Henn?” He inched closer.

“Keane,” she replied and took a step forward. He was now standing inches from her. She could feel his breath on her cheek. Agathe feigned quick breathing. In truth, she found more excitement in what would follow tonight than the fact that it was Adam Villeneuve she was seducing. Of course, he thought he was seducing her. But he’d soon learn how wrong he’d been.

Adam chuckled, a puff of air softly hitting Agathe’s cheek as he exhaled. “I know this might be a bit forward,” She raised her eyebrow, intrigued. “and I’m not wearing a shirt,” he chuckled again, glancing down at his naked chest. “but I’d really like to kiss you, …” Adam struggled to remember if she’d actually given him her name.

“Agathe,” she filled in for him.

“Agathe,” he said with a smirk, and closed the gap between them.

 

His lips had been soft, that’s what Agathe remembered most vividly of that night. She had to admit, he was attractive, and she did have fun. Perhaps it was a shame she had to do this. But then she reminded herself that she was nothing more than another notch in his belt, and the moment of nostalgia was over.

Agathe twirled the USB between her fingers. If she closed her eyes she could still see him in front of her, beautiful and golden. She knew what she was doing was heavy duty stuff, potentially life-destroying, so she thought it might perhaps be a little bit more honourable to take a few moments before committing to the act.

She really had had a good time, she couldn’t blame him for that. Adam Villeneuve had been a nice opponent, but she wasn’t doing this for Adam Villeneuve. She was doing this for them. She hoped others would learn from this, as well as he. She hoped they’d learn to act more civilised, to treat others with respect. Yes, this was for the best.

Agathe closed her eyes for a minute, then smiled. She took off the case, and put the USB into the outlet. The file appeared on the screen and was dragged into the email draft. This was not a crime. This was justice being served. Cold, hard justice. Agathe pressed send. It felt good to be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> I can't believe I've finally finished this prologue. It's been in the works for almost three months but I think I'm finally happy with it. I hope you guys liked it and that you're ready for more because ohh boooy. Next chapter will be Belle arriving at UoV, and introducing the Bimbettes and (possibly) Plumette. Hang tight!
> 
> To clarify some things:  
> i. yes, Adam is bi. He's not just attractive to the girls, either.  
> ii. yes, Adam is hosting the party at his flat. yes, he has a flat. it's nearby campus. he's rich af  
> iii. his initials stand for Adam Louis Francois Villeneuve  
> iiii. the rose is a memorial for his mother  
> v. the professors name-dropped in the chapter are named after the supervising animators for Belle and Adam from the animated movie, Mark Henn and Glen Keane. it's a nice little easter egg. you'll find more like them in following chapters  
> vi. the song played when Agathe's in Adam's room means something. if you don't know it, I suggest you listen to it. it tells two stories, a guy who thinks a girl is in love with him, and a girl who thinks the guy is an idiot for thinking that. it's a really good song
> 
> If you liked it, please leave kudos or a comment as it really helps to know you're appreciated when writing! Cheers!


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle arrives at University of Villeneuve! And runs into the scheming Agathe, plus she meets her dorm mate. Things are really taking shape now

Her father’s hands were tightly gripping the steering wheel, his fingers wrapped around the soft leather, leaving dents in the supple fabric when he tried to let go. Belle knew he was nervous from one look. He was trying too hard to stop his arms from shaking, and was failing miserably. She placed a hand on Maurice’s forearm, a gentle reminder that she was not gone yet.

“Dad,” she laughed nervously. “it’s gonna be fine. Don’t worry.”

Maurice relaxed a bit at her reassurance, loosening the grip on the wheel to mop the sweat off his brow. “Sorry, Belle. It just feels so strange knowing I won’t see you everyday.”

Belle smiled warmly at him. Her father had never really been alone. Ever since her mother had died when she was just a young girl, and Maurice had been left to take care of Belle on his own, the two had grown as close as could be. Belle was nothing without Maurice, and Maurice was nothing without her.

In truth, she too was scared. All her life she’d been raised to live with only her father as company in Villeneuve. It was expensive to stay in the middle of the city, and they had not been able to afford much luxury outside of rent, but Maurice had insisted they stay and Belle had not the heart to tell him the truth. It had been the home he had shared with her mother, and she knew leaving it would mean cutting the last cord to her. There had, of course, been many pros to staying. Villeneuve was a large city, and she knew it like the back of her hand. It was her home. And it certainly didn’t hurt that the city library was only a few blocks from their apartment. Belle had even made a friend there, Robert, who worked in the 'Classics' section started recognising her after her many visits. She’d had a couple of friends of course, but because of their financial situation Belle had always been considered an outsider. She couldn’t always come with the kids in her neighbourhood if they did something fun, like go to the cinema or to an adventure park. Not that she cared too much. The ones she had gotten to know she had only known for a little while and they hadn’t mattered that much to her. She was alone, not lonely, and she found comfort in that. That and the fact that she preferred the company of a good book over the people in her town had been the main reasons as for why she was perhaps a bit isolated from everyone else.

“I know,” her fingers squeezed reassuringly around his arm, a soft tug on his thin linen shirt.

“You know,” Maurice said nervously. Belle immediately felt the tension in his voice. The tone shifted, the air between the grew heavy. She recognised the tugging in her stomach as the reminder of an aching heart. “Your mother would have been so proud of you.”

Her father didn’t often talk about her mother. In fact, she felt more like a distant memory to Belle than a part of her. That was a burden she’d had to carry constantly, not knowing what she was missing. But she knew she had to be patient with her father. He’d loved his wife so fiercely that even to this day he found it hard to open up and learn to love again.

Hélène had died when Belle was only 2 years old. The girl didn’t have any memories to cherish of her, and it had left her with a gaping hole in her life, this heavy, dark cloud hanging over her head that she wasn’t allowed to speak of. Just like her father, that horrible grief had made it very hard for her to love someone outside of her family. It was too much of a gamble, so for a long while it had only been her and Maurice, trying to make life work from day to day.

This moment was special, she knew. It was no easy feat for Maurice to speak of her mother. His lip was quivering, eyes watering, as he grabbed her hand and nodded in assurance. She couldn’t help but start crying too. Even though Belle didn’t remember her, she missed her mother, and most of all she longed for her father to be happy again. Their family didn’t feel whole without her.

“Thank you,” Belle said, tears running down her cheeks. Her breathing quickened as she tried to calm herself down, only resulting in her breaking down completely. Maurice couldn’t help but follow suit.

She collapsed into his arms, burying her face in his chest. The beat of his heart calmed her down a bit, but there was no way around it. Belle was terrified, as was he. They had never been without each other. Belle didn’t know who she was without Maurice.

"This is so silly," she laughed at herself. "You'll be less than an hour away!"

Maurice shook his head. "It's not silly." He smiled warmly at his daughter. “Just remember,” he said, patting her head and trying to hold back the tears. “we are so proud of you. This is all thanks to you. You're so head-strong, determined, nothing can stand in the way of your dreams. No matter what they think of you, you’ve earned this. Remember that.”

Belle sobbed softly into the white fabric of his shirt, squeezing her arms tighter around her father’s torso. Maurice kissed the top of her head, and Belle took a deep breath before she let go and sat back down in her own seat again.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” she said, looking him in the eyes, simultaneously wiping away the last of her tears.

“I know, my beautiful girl. It's not easy, but it’s your dream. Go live it.”

Belle couldn’t help but smile at his words. She felt her heart swell with love for her dad. She'd been so lucky to be his daughter.

She dried her tears, straightened her back, and said with a determined look in her eye, “I will.”

Her father smiled melancholically at her response. “You are so fearless, you know. You got that from your mother.”

Belle giggled, sniffling as she tried to get that nagging sadness off her mind.

”I’ll come visit you every chance I’ve got," she promised.

“Good. ‘Cause I can’t spend Thanksgiving alone, you know what they’ll say,” he joked.

“I promise.”

He leaned forward, brushed her brown hair away, and kissed her sweetly on the forehead. She closed her eyes at his touch, trying to save the memory of his warmth for later.

“I’m going to miss you, my darling girl.”

Belle smiled, though she felt more like crying. “I’ll miss you too, Dad.”

The car was silent. It felt so strange to say goodbye to someone she’d seen every day of her life. Belle didn’t know what to say now that the moment had arrived.

She said nothing, and neither did Maurice. She smiled sadly at him and then, reluctantly, opened the door and climbed out of the car, shutting it behind her.

Maurice rolled down the car window and leaned out. “Don’t forget to call me if you need anything. More books, or anything. Don’t hesitate.”

“Yes, Dad,” Belle chuckled. He nodded, mumbling something inaudible to himself. The window rolled up again, cutting off any verbal communication between father and daughter.

He gave her a short wave before starting the engine and switching the gear into backing. Belle watched as the car pulled out of the parking lot and drove away, disappearing further and further down the road. She remained there until Maurice was completely out of view, and then a little bit longer.

The air hung heavy around her. It was a damp day for August. The clouds were blocking the light of the sun, and the campus grounds were chased with the fog that hung in the air. It had rained a few hours before, and there were puddles left on the gravelled roads to mark it. Belle looked down and saw her reflection on the wet concrete. Realising that she had to go back to her dorm to unpack, she sighed and started making her way back to her building.

On her way she studied what would be her home now for the next four years. She’d been here before, on orientation day back in April when spring was making its triumphant return to the city. Today was different though.

The great main building loomed ahead of her, high-ceilinged and pompous, and it was right to be. The University of Villeneuve was nothing if not prestigious, and it had the campus to show for it.

The university was regarded as one of the finest in the country. The Villeneuves, one of the oldest noble families in their history, the family that had given the city its name, had all gone there. The Villeneuve family tree reached back into the late 15th century, even rumoured to be descended from royal blood. They owned a large estate nearby, their home from the 1700s and onwards. Back in the day they had owned the entire county and been close friends with the royal family. The only thing that remained in their ownership was a large estate nearby, on the outskirts of the city. A grand house, though it seemed more like a castle than anything else, with vast gardens and luxurious fountains. They didn’t visit it often, only for events and sometimes during the summer, instead they preferred to stay in the heart of the city, where the hustle and bustle of city life was ablaze. Instead _Chateau de Villeneuve_ was a popular spot for tourists, and the occasional visiting celebrity. Belle remembered the first time Maurice had brought her there. He’d bought her strawberry ice cream from the gelato vendor on the grounds, and she’d run around in the maze. Her fingers had been sticky from the melting ice cream, and her knees stained green from when she’d slipped and fallen onto the grass. It had been one of her happiest moments from her early childhood.

She could see the likeness between the two now, the grand chateau and the old university that stood before her. Perhaps they had tried to mimic it in its architecture. It made her glad. She felt a bit closer to Maurice when she was reminded of their good times together.

Overrun by her feelings of nostalgia, Belle snapped out of her melancholy mood. She was here now. It felt like destiny.

It had been Belle’s dream for as long as she could remember to study at the esteemed University of Villeneuve. Her mother had studied here, Maurice had told her, and she wanted to follow in her footsteps. But her family certainly couldn’t afford the tuition fee, if not for the engineering scholarship she’d earned after years of hard work at her old school. She had worked hard to get in, with perfect attendance and near perfect grades, even working for the school newspaper for extra credit (she had quite the knack for gender politics). The hardest obstacle for her in her journey had been the tuition fee. The university was the finest in the area, and though the education was superb it was not the results on your A-levels that could stop you from getting in. But Maurice had been adamant. He wanted his daughter to have the best education possible, no matter the cost. Luckily that hadn’t happened.

But, she thought as she studied the façade, it truly had all been worth it. The college was glorious. Built out of red brick with vines climbing high up on the walls, it looked more like a castle or a mansion than a college. The main doors were huge, embellished on each side with two lanterns carved out from the stone to look like two hands holding torches, and above them the building became a clock tower with golden hands that chimed loud and clear across all of campus every half hour. In the square a fountain trickled, copper pennies lying at the bottom of the pool, glittering underneath the small waves. If she looked to her right she could see the great grass lawn that covered most part of the space between the different houses, and to her left the frat and sorority houses.

“Are you lost?” a voice rang loud and clear. Belle turned around to find a blonde girl a few meters behind her, smoking a cigarette. Stunned, she said nothing. The girl took one last inhale before dropping the cigarette on the wet ground and smashing it underneath the heel of her shoe. Her blonde brows were raised as she studied her.

“Uh, no…” she answered. “Just admiring the building.”

“Rich, huh? No wonder they’re asking so much money from us.”

“How old is it?”

The girl smiled, a mischievous grin that screamed trouble. She ran her tongue over her teeth. “1643. Baroque.” With that she walked over to Belle, with heavy and determined steps.

“Should’ve known,” Belle laughed at her own blindness.”

“You’re new here?” The girl had a certain look to her, a harsh expression on her face that made her every word seem almost threatening. She was pretty, no doubt, with long golden hair cascading down her back, and large blue eyes looking back at her. She had two moles on her upper lip, and thick brown lashes that fluttered against her cheeks when she looked down. Not that she did often. Her eyes bored into Belle’s brown ones, never leaving her face for so much as a moment. She had a commanding presence, one that demanded respect.

“Yeah, just arrived.”

“What major?”

“Engineering.”

She laughed under her breath, a laughter that was as contagious as the pox. “Aw, damn. I’m an English major. It’s a shame, isn’t it?”

“Actually, I’m minoring in English.” A smile spread across her face, red lips widening as her mouth curled upward.

“Ambitious.”

“Belle, actually.” Her reply was met with a cackle.

“You’re witty. I like you, Belle.” And with that she extended one hand, and Belle gladly shook it. “I’m Agathe, by the way.”

She had a confident stance, legs spread wide and her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket. There was an edge to her, but Belle liked her honesty.

“So, you need help with that?” Agathe asked and looked down at the leather satchel Belle was holding in her hand. It was the last bag of packing that her father and her hadn’t brought up to her dorm yet.

Belle smiled at the sarcasm. “Actually, I think I can manage.”

Agathe nodded to herself and turned around curtly, back towards the main building, and turned her head to her with a cheeky smile. “So where are we headed, Belle?”

“Wolverton House,” she recalled from memory.

“Lucky bastard! It’s right this way,” Agathe said and lead the way back. They turned a left and passed the colonnade covered in white roses. The campus was empty except for the two of them. The grounds were still wet from the rain, and the dark clouds above them hinted that there might be another downpour soon. Most likely the students were all hiding in their rooms or in the library, heads burrowed deep into books and papers. “You’re the furthest away from the frat houses, so you might actually be able to survive these few years without killing an idiot or two in blind rage. You know how tedious frat boys can be.”

“Speaking from experience?” Belle asked with the hint of a smile, and watched as Agathe tried to stifle a laugh as she walked beside her.

“At least half of the guys here are spoiled rotten little rich boys who have ideas above their station. You’ll be terrified to know that almost all of them are determined to get into the government in some way or another,” Belle cringed at the idea. “The best idea would be to avoid as many of them as you can. Trust me.” Agathe winked and stepped over a large puddle with ease. Wolverton House loomed grand not far ahead of them.

She stopped when they were 10 meters from the steps up to the door and turned towards Belle. “The girls here are pretty decent, though. But you’ll find that a lot of people clearly get here because of money and not esteem. Still, I don’t want to rain on your parade. It’s a great school. Honestly. But…” she hesitated and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from her back pocket, scribbled down something quickly on the yellow post-it note, and pressed it into Belle’s open palm. “If you need a friend. Chbosky Hall, 31C.”

Belle closed her hand, letting the paper crush under the weight of her curled fingers, and looked up to find her new-found friend already on her way back.

“Or if you need a guide, or whatever!” Agathe called out as she turned her back to her and waved lazily goodbye. She turned a corner and then she was gone. Unfolding her hand, Belle picked up the paper and looked at the writing. She’d left her name and number on it, written hastily in cursive. _Agathe Dubois._

All of a sudden the rain came thundering down on her, hammering at her back and overfilling the fountain. The white roses slumped under the weight of the raindrops that fell on them, the soil in the flower beds that lined the houses grew moist. The rain smattered against the gravel walkway, and Belle’s clothes hung heavily on her back. Belle had never been one of those people who hated rain, or who’d worry that her hair would look strange when it was damp. She found beauty in the simple things in life, in the freedom of nature. Still, it was getting late. If Belle’d had the time to stay out in the courtyard all day, getting to know the campus better, she would’ve. But she had things to do. Things to unpack, and a dorm mate to meet.

Thus, without further ado, she gathered all the spirit she could muster, putting aside the sorrow of being without her father, and ran towards what would be her new home.

She stepped through the doors to the east wing of Wolverton House with a sense of pride, and perhaps a bit of fright for the unknown. She was dripping wet from the rain, her hair hanging in streaks down her back, water dripping from her coat onto the wooden floor. The soles of her boots squeaked with each step she took. She was aware that she looked absolutely ridiculous, but at the moment she didn’t care.

Instead she walked on, with a confident stride towards her room. She took a left down the corridor and went up her three floors. She was certain the whole house could hear her arrival, so old was the building.

Belle counted the numbers on the doors as she walked down the corridor until she found the one, a dark wooden door with the numbers 17b nailed to it. She stopped, and tried to fish out the keys to the door while grabbing on to the ornate handle. To her surprise the door was unlocked. Reluctantly, she pulled down the gold handle, and opened the door, and took her first step into the room that would be her home for the next four years.

Inside, the rain smattering against the large windows at the other end of the room seemed to have an echoing effect. It was a comfortable sound. Soothing. She and Maurice had already brought her stuff so the floor was practically littered with her moving boxes, each one as heavy as the other, stuffed to the brim with books and candles, and her perfumes.

Belle closed the door behind her and walked towards a brown box that sat on her bed, rummaged in it for a few seconds, then pulled out a towel and began drying her hair with it. Wrapping her hair in it, she turned around, and saw six green eyes staring back at her.

On the opposite bed sat three almost identical girls, all with black hair and green eyes, and perfectly filled in eyebrows. Two of them leered cryptically at her, an arched brow raised as if asking why she was there. The one sitting closest to the door stood up from the bed.

“Are you Belle?” she asked, carefully taking a step closer to her.

“Yes?” Belle replied, uncertain.

The girl let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God. We thought you were someone else for a minute,” she laughed loudly, looking at the other girls, in a manner that made Belle want to step back. There was a sense of dominance about her, a sense of entitlement. “Could be anyone walking in through the door, you know.” The girl took another step forward and reached out her hand to shake. “I’m Eloise.”

Belle wiped her hand on the towel before taking it in hers and the two girls shook hands. “I love your name,” she said with a smile. Belle guessed Eloise was her roommate, and more than anything she wanted to make a good impression.

“Thanks,” she smiled back awkwardly at the rather unusual compliment.

It didn’t appear that she’d left a good first impression, but thankfully Eloise was quick to move on from the subject. She let go of Belle’s hand and gestured towards the other girls that were still sitting on the bed.. “These are my sisters, Elise and Eliana. We’re triplets, but you probably already noticed that,” she said and laughed.

“Oh, cool,” she replied unenthusiastically. "Hi."

The girls smiled dryly in return.

“Girls, it’s almost 6:30. We should get going,” said one of them to the others. Belle kicked off her wet shoes and started taking off her coat to hang it up to dry.

“Damn, you’re right. Did you have your umbrellas with you?” They began bickering behind her, but Belle was too preoccupied to notice. She was already opening up her first box, taking out her bedding and pillows and putting them on the bed.

Soon enough they were out the door, gossiping as they left the room and entered the corridor.

“Belle?” She turned around at her name being called. Her roommate had stuck her head in for a last word. “We’ll be out late so..." she trailed off. "Just make sure that everything is clean when I get home, okay?” Eloise gave her a condescending look, and then shut the door behind her and they were gone.

Belle sighed heavily and returned to her box. She pulled out a pillow and placed it on her bed. Decorating calmed her. She liked the logic off it. Put a yellow pillow on the bed to make your white bedding less flat. It was simple really. Like it came naturally for her, barely requiring any further thought. On the bookshelf above her bed she lined up her books, from her well-thumbed copy of _Romeo and Juliet_ to _The Vagina Monologues_. Her favourite, her mother’s old copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ she kept on a table next to her bed, in close keeping. She had some of her favourite photographs of her and Maurice taped to the wall where she could see them, including one of her father and mother on their wedding day. On her desk she placed her notebooks, laptop, pens, and even more books. There was room for a framed black and white portrait of her mother at the corner of the desk. Then she made her bed, put up a lamp, and finished the rest of her unpacking. True to form, there was still a whole box of books left. Tired, Belle collapsed onto her bed.

Eloise’s side of the room was cooler than hers. There were pictures of the three sisters doing one exciting thing after another. A concert, the opening of a club, visiting the Cannes Film Festival. She’d had fairy lights hanging in the window, and fur coat was draped over the back of her chair at her desk.

Belle sighed. She'd have to leave the rest of her stuff for another day. It had been a long day.

She considered pulling out her new Donna Tartt novel, when she remembered what the girl she'd met had said. She pulled out the piece of paper from her pocket and typed in Agathe’s number into her phone, adding it to her contacts and sending her a text so the girl would have her number too.

_Belle :)_ , she typed, and pressed send.

Then she put her phone down, and turned to her book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know when you re-write something and it just feels so good? And then you read it and find out it's all incoherent garbage? That's me with this chapter. I might also be too critical of myself and am posting it anyway because CHAPTER ONE IS FINISHED!
> 
> Thank you so much for all the wonderful feedback on the prologue! I hope you all are ready to meet the other characters as we delve deeper into FIRST IMPRESSIONS!
> 
> now for notes on this chapter:  
> i. so, I named belle's mother. still not a 100% sure on the name so if you go back and re-read and find a different one that's why. let me know what you think of the name. does it fit her?  
> ii. belle and maurice are not poor. i know it probably sounds like they are, but just to clarify, they are fine financially. they just have to be more careful with money than a lot of us do  
> iii. robert is, in fact, pére robert  
> iiii. easter egg number three is in this chapter! belle's building, wolverton house is named after the screenwriter of the original movie, linda wolverton  
> v. agathe's building is named after one of the writers of the live action, stephen chbosky, who also wrote perks of being a wallflower  
> vi. i promise, i am going to expand on the bimbettes' characters. don't worry  
> vii. the names of the village lasses in the live action are eloise, elise, and eliana, as confirmed by sophie reid. i did not just make it up  
> viii. belle owns the book the vagina monologues because emma watson herself said that she thinks belle would read it if she lived in our time  
> viiii. i really hope belle didn't come off as "sad" in this chapter. she's very quick to make friends, it's just that she's not always interested in keeping them. so it's not like she was bullied or ate lunch alone at school, she had "friends", she just didn't hang out with them in her free time
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed Chapter One. PLEASE leave kudos and/or comments. Stay tuned for Chapter Two!


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